At the risk of making this an infrequently updated blog containing pictures of Jenny pulling various faces, I’m going to post a picture of Jenny pulling a face - well, not quite.
She woke up in the late early hours with a strange cough and then couldn’t get back to sleep.
The girls and I are at home today. Jenny’s sleep was interrupted last night by an urgent need for the toilet. Sadly all did not go to plan and there was a significant clearing up required at 12.30 last night. (Hopefully that is not too graphic for you).
I made the decision to keep her home with such unpredictable bowels, and it made sense to be cautious about Rosie too, so here we all are.
Needless to say, Jenny is as bright as a button this morning and Rosie wants to watch TV/go on the computer all day. Sigh!
La la la la la. Here’s a nice photo from yesterday.
Last Easter we visited a National Trust property in Sussex, Batemans, the home of Rudyard Kipling. I think that was where my love for taking photographs was rekindled. This Easter, with the festival falling a good few weeks earlier, the weather couldn’t have been more different, but despite the unfavourable snow flurries, we set off to another property run by the National Trust, Standen House. The promise of an Easter Egg trail for the girls drove us out of the house (the temptation to stay indoors and watch an old movie was great).
Within 5 minutes of arriving there, Jenny had tripped over in her wellies and landed splat on the muddy path. She was understandably upset but cheered up quite quickly, despite her muddy coat and sodden sleeves. Unbelievably she did it again about an hour later! Still unhurt, thank goodness, I kept a firm hold of her (muddy) hand for the rest of our visit.
I’d like to go back to Standen when the weather is kinder. Hubby and I were perplexed why we hadn’t visited this particular property before, as it’s less than an hour’s drive from us and has both an interesting house and extensive gardens to offer.
Trails were completed, and egg rewards were collected (and partly eaten within 10 minutes, but heh! why not?). I even blagged one for Hubby and I, claiming that all that hunting for clues was very tough on the parents too. Call me a chocolate-hussy if you like, it’s probably true.
We even managed to fit in a visit to the face-painting lady.
I’m 6:49 a.m.
I’m the time of day right around sunrise, when the sky is still a pale bluish gray. The streets are empty, and the grass and leaves are a little bit sparkly with dew. I am the sound of a few chirpy birds outside the window. I am quiet, peaceful, and contemplative. If I move slowly, it’s not because I’m lazy – it’s because I know there’s no reason to rush. I move like a relaxed cat, pausing for deep stretches that make my muscles feel alive. I am long sips of tea or coffee (out of a mug that’s held with both hands) that slowly warm my insides just as the sun is brightening the sky.
I am getting lazy. I really don’t want to go out tonight but I have to work.
Actually, I don’t mind the work; it’s just the going out. I want to take my socks off and stay home. Oh well, it’s not going to happen any other way.
Mum had a follow-up appointment at St. Thomas’ hospital yesterday. No news, other than the doctor said he thought the radiation was still working its effects. Mum’s appetite is still quite reduced, although she hasn’t got the sore throat that had been bothering her. What she would like is for her shoulder/back pain to go, but Dr L suggested that she might not see that change for another 4/5 weeks.
After the appointment yesterday, Mum, Big Sis and I headed off to Pizza Express for lunch. On the way there we came across a film crew and on looking closer we saw Philip Glenister filming a scene. He was still there when we came out after finishing our meal. It will be fun to look out for the scene when it comes on TV. Yes, my life is that exciting.
I didn’t get a photo of him (why not? I’m asking myself now) but I did take some photos just outside the hospital.
This sculpture is called Bridging the Gap.
This will not be a long post, as I should be ironing and I haven’t worked out a safe and effective way of blogging and ironing at the same time. Up til now I have been watching Monty Don’s Around the World in 80 gardens, blog surfing and commenting, and putting off the moment off when I have to stand and start.
I can’t believe we’re now into February. Somehow it feels as if I am moving towards something, rather than away from. That’s good, isn’t it? I was delighted this evening to notice that there was still remnants of daylight glimmering outside at five o’clock.
OK, now I must iron.
I am trying to adjust my diet. Not actually going on a diet, just making changes.
This is after my food diary, which I presented to my homoeopath, revealed out the “classic caffeine-sugar cycle”. This was no surprise to me, but it’s always useful to have some things pointed out. We also talked about my levels of hydration. Hmmm.
Anyhoo, I am making an effort to eat other, more healthier things before I reach for the biscuits. I haven’t been doing too badly, although yesterday afternoon was a bit of a disaster on the sugar front, but I blame my time-of-the-month. I have increased my water intake and been more aware of my cups of tea.
In other news . . .
I’m thinking of re-training to become a primary (elementary) school teacher. It’s crossed my mind before, and I looked into in the early part of 2006, but at that stage I’d missed the cut-off for applications, and I thought some more, and maybe talked myself out of it (I wouldn’t be good at it; what about my therapy work; wasn’t I too old to re-train).
So what’s changed? Me, I guess. I think I would make a good teacher and there’s still some life in this “old dog”.The therapy work I still love, and always feel privileged when treating working with clients.
But, I confess, whilst I think I’m a good therapist, I’m not brilliant at being self-employed, and I am growing tired of working in the evenings and some weekends. I’m not under the impression that teaching is all short days and long holidays, but I want to be there for bedtime every night and I’m a bit worn down by Jenny clinging to my leg and sobbing as I leave the house for an 8 p.m. client.
It is early days. With typical timing of my life ideas, I’ve probably missed the cut-off for entry into training this September again, so we’re looking at 2009 - seems a long way off, but it will come round fast.
Jenny is wearing two pairs of pyjamas. No, not the top of one set and trousers of the other set. She is wearing both pairs of pyjama trousers and two tops. It’s not even that cold outside, what with all this rain, but she is cosy.
I’m sorry I don’t have a photo of her in both pairs, but I do have a picture of her in one of her new sets of pyjamas at Christmas.
You can see she is especially pleased with her new Christmas wear. She put the jammies on as soon as she opened them, even though it was the middle of the day.
And no, I’ve drawn the line at her wearing her roller skates in bed.
